


IDFC

by oomikram



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, I love spanish speaking reyes, LMAO, M/M, This is trash, You Decide, and i will change it, i used google translate if the spanish is wrong please tell me, idk - Freeform, inspired by idfc by blackbear and, kind of, mostly idfc, reaper is out of character totally, so sorry for overdoin it there, sorry - Freeform, sucker for pain by imagine dragons and the other dudes, thank you, they smooch, translations are at the end, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9259898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oomikram/pseuds/oomikram
Summary: “Boy scout.”Reaper’s words were like ice, sending Jack’s blood running cold as they echoed around in his head.“Fuck you,” Jack spat.





	

   A soldier lie on the freezing concrete, a shiver running up his aching spine as he reached around in the darkness. A burning pain coursed through his side where he had been shot, and he felt his blood began to seep through his tattered jacket. His left arm, which had taken most of the fall, was definitely broken. He hadn’t expected to see his former best friend, and he also hadn’t expected to miss the jump from the rooftop.

 

   So now he lie on the dirty ground, his cold body finding some satisfaction in the warm blood that pooled around him. His jacket was shredded, and his visor, barely on his face, was severely cracked. His blue eyes flickered around the dark alley in a hopeless attempt to make something out. Without the help of his visor, he was almost completely blind. After the swiss base accident, Winston and Angela had made it for him. It was only now that he realized how much he’d taken advantage of it. He felt deep remorse, for it was unlikely he would ever get to thank him now.

 

   Jack panicked as he heard heavy boots hit the pavement next to him, a dark and sinister laugh floating through the air. His heart was racing, his breathing unsteady as a thick fog enveloped him. It twisted around his arms and legs, consuming his body with a ravenous hunger. Jack gasped, the smoke invading his weak lungs as he coughed up blood.

 

   “Boy scout.”

 

   Reaper’s words were like ice, sending Jack’s blood running cold as they echoed around in his head. 

 

   “Fuck you,” Jack spat.

 

   Reaper stood leaning against the alley wall, the dark eyes under his mask fixated on the man in front of him. Bruised and beaten, the broken soldier lie defeated. He, however, wasn’t entirely satisfied. He wanted  _ more _ . He wanted Jack Morrison to  _ beg _ for his pretty little life,

 

   Deep down, Reaper knew Jack wouldn’t.

 

   The old man probably  _ wanted _ to die.

 

   Reaper chuckled, his bitter fury bubbling up and over inside him as he stalked over to Jack. Jack’s breathing rapidly increased as he heard the ghost of his best friend crouch behind him.

 

   “¿Qué pasó, niño bonito? ¿Hay algo mal?”

 

   “I said fuck off,  _ Gabriel _ ,” Jack gurgled, blood dripping from his mouth.

 

   Reaper cracked his neck, slightly displeased with the usage of his old name. 

 

   Gabriel was gone.

 

   “Tonto.”

 

   Reaper watched him closely, Jack’s pale blue eyes scanning the dark alleyway, passing over Reaper as he stood enveloped in the shadows.

 

   Jack looked horrible. Blood dripped from his chapped lips, his scarred face scratched and bruised. His left arm bone was shattered, bent in the complete wrong direction. His red gloves were ripped, his bloody white knuckles showing through the holes. He was covered in dust and dirt, the white of his jacket now a soft beige. He looked disgusting, but somehow Reaper still found the man… attractive.

 

   “If you’re going to kill me, just fucking do it already.”

 

   Reaper chuckled. If he were to kill Jack, he would make his death slow and agonizing. He knew that Jack knew it too; heroes never die quick and easy.

   Reaper continued to stare at the man, wondering what was going on inside his head. He didn’t look frightened or worried. If anything, he appeared irritated, as if this was only a minor inconvenience in his daily routine. As if being on the brink of death was a  _ usual. _

  
   “What do you want from me?” Jack croaked. 

 

   He did not answer. 

 

   “You don’t even know, do you? You’re too much of a pussy to kill me, aren’t you, Gabriel? Do you forget I know who you are? That I know exactly what kind of man you are?”

 

   Reaper did not want to admit it, but it was true. He did not know what he wanted from Jack. Though Jack made his skin crawl and his blood boil, though he wanted to see him suffer and die, the thought of his death being by his own hand both greatly repulsed and enticed him.

  
    
   Perhaps, deep down, Reaper held some form of corrupted admiration for Jack. The thought was quite revolting, but realistic. Jack had become almost as emotionless as he was, for it was better to feel nothing than sorrow. He was tough and hardened. He was not the man he used to be. Reaper was in a constant state of conflicting ambivalence. He possessed feelings of such unbridled rage for the way things happened, and the ways things didn’t. He found himself in between denial and acceptance, in between the past and the future, between love and hate. He was a walking contradiction, a breathing refutation.

  
   And now, the man he both loved and hated lie dying at his feet. 

 

   What else was he to do? 

 

   “Te odio,” Reaper spat. 

 

   “You love me,” Jack replied.

 

   “Vete a la mierda.”

 

   “You wish,” he scoffed.

  
  


   Reaper ripped off his mask, pulling Jack towards him and kissing him aggressively. Jack groaned, the pain of lifting his chest up too intense. Reaper, for a moment, forgot about the man he was supposed to be. He let Talon go, he let Overwatch go. He lost his psychopathic identity, and remembered the man he used to be.   
  


   He was Gabriel Reyes, born in Los Angeles. A senior military officer turned into a super soldier for Overwatch.

 

   There, he met Jack Morrison. Jack Morrison, the sweet farmer boy from Indiana with a shining optimism and a winning smile. It was no wonder that Gabriel Reyes had fallen in love.

 

   So for a few moments, he let everything go. He didn’t want to be Reaper, the ghost mercenary, kissing Soldier: 76, the vigilante. That was never who he was- who he really was. That was never who they were. For a second, he wanted to be Gabriel Reyes again. He wanted his old life back for just a sliver of time. 

  
  
   It angered him, for he knew that man was too far gone.

**Author's Note:**

> “¿Qué pasó, niño bonito? ¿Hay algo mal?” - "What's wrong, pretty boy? Is something wrong?"
> 
> “Tonto.” - "Fool."
> 
> "“Te odio,” - "I hate you."
> 
> “Vete a la mierda.” - Fuck you/Fuck off (?)


End file.
